IN WHICH A SLIGHT GLIMPSE IS HAD OF SAN FRANCISCO

"It is evidently a meeting," said Fix, "and its object must be
an exciting one. I should not wonder if it were about the Alabama,
despite the fact that that question is settled."

"Perhaps," replied Mr. Fogg, simply.

"At least, there are two champions in presence of each other,
the Honourable Mr. Camerfield and the Honourable Mr. Mandiboy."

Aouda, leaning upon Mr. Fogg's arm, observed the tumultuous scene
with surprise, while Fix asked a man near him what the cause of it all was.
Before the man could reply, a fresh agitation arose; hurrahs and excited
shouts were heard; the staffs of the banners began to be used
as offensive weapons; and fists flew about in every direction.
Thumps were exchanged from the tops of the carriages and omnibuses
which had been blocked up in the crowd. Boots and shoes went whirling
through the air, and Mr. Fogg thought he even heard the crack of revolvers
mingling in the din, the rout approached the stairway, and flowed over
the lower step. One of the parties had evidently been repulsed;
but the mere lookers-on could not tell whether Mandiboy or Camerfield
had gained the upper hand.

"It would be prudent for us to retire," said Fix, who was anxious
that Mr. Fogg should not receive any injury, at least until
they got back to London. "If there is any question about England
in all this, and we were recognised, I fear it would go hard with us."

"An English subject--" began Mr. Fogg.

He did not finish his sentence; for a terrific hubbub now arose
on the terrace behind the flight of steps where they stood,
and there were frantic shouts of, "Hurrah for Mandiboy! Hip, hip, hurrah!"

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It was a band of voters coming to the rescue of their allies,
and taking the Camerfield forces in flank. Mr. Fogg, Aouda,
and Fix found themselves between two fires; it was too late to escape.
The torrent of men, armed with loaded canes and sticks, was irresistible.
Phileas Fogg and Fix were roughly hustled in their attempts to protect
their fair companion; the former, as cool as ever, tried to defend himself
with the weapons which nature has placed at the end of every Englishman's arm,
but in vain. A big brawny fellow with a red beard, flushed face,
and broad shoulders, who seemed to be the chief of the band,
raised his clenched fist to strike Mr. Fogg, whom he would have given
a crushing blow, had not Fix rushed in and received it in his stead.
An enormous bruise immediately made its appearance under the detective's
silk hat, which was completely smashed in.